


Your All and Nothing Else

by Werelibrarian



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Tipsy Boys Fooling Around, law school era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6411514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werelibrarian/pseuds/Werelibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Wait, where are you going?" Matt laughed at Foggy's outrage.</p>
<p>"I figured out what I can give you for your birthday," said Matt, yanking Foggy's belt open. He heard Foggy's head drop back onto the pillow.</p>
<p>"Oh," he said quietly, "yes, I like those."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your All and Nothing Else

"It's my birthday!" Foggy belted into the pillow, "I'm so old!"

Next to him on the skinny dorm bed, but curled up at the level of his knees, Matt snickered. "Old as grit, Foggy."

"I know," Foggy moaned, still muffled, "I'm an old man and no one loves me."

"What are you talking about, you got kissed by three people at that party".

"Two of them were friend kisses," Foggy wedged a foot under Matt's stomach for warmth and Matt levered himself up to capture the other one under him.

"Which two?"

"Emily and Derek. I'm not sure about Penelope, but we're having coffee on Friday."

Matt envied Foggy's easy ability to pick up people—both friends and dates. Foggy never agonized about whether people liked him or _like_ liked him, he just smiled and joked and asked people out for coffee or drinks like it wasn't a big deal. And if someone said no, Foggy might make a few sad noises into Matt's shoulder, but by the next day it was all in the past. No one bounced back quite like Foggy.

"Emily smells pretty," Matt told Foggy’s jeans. "I like Derek’s voice. And Penelope walks cute."

"Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you volunteer opinions about people before. You must be really drunk." Foggy reached down and played with Matt's hair.

"Like that," Matt purred. "Do it more." Above him, Foggy giggled, and maybe he _was_ a little bit loose-lipped. It had been a good party. Low-key enough that no one said anything about Matt parking himself on a couch all night, free-flowing enough that his leaning into Foggy's warm side after a few beers was also completely unremarkable. They’d swerved their way over frosted walkways arm in arm and Foggy had pushed him up against a wall whispering about being spotted by highway bandits. The easily-identifiable jangle of a massive ring of keys told Matt that those bandits were actually campus security, but he had played his part as Foggy inched them forward, Matt's cane brandished like a sword.

"My hero", he'd trilled, and swooned into Foggy's arms. Foggy's guffaws had boomed against Matt's ears.

Now, pleasantly stewed in liquor and with his front side warmed by Foggy's bedsheets and Foggy's legs, Matt wondered if this is what heaven could be like.

"Matt?"

"Mmm?"

"We should go out tomorrow, have a real meal. My gran sent me some money." Foggy's fingers twisted in his hair and swept over his forehead.

"Mmm. What?" Matt's back was cold, and so were his feet. He shuffled up some more and slotted Foggy's socked toes between his own knees. Foggy's thigh was soft against his face—worn denim and the sweetly yielding flesh underneath.

Foggy chuckled. "You. Me. Non-campus food. Birthday money."

Matt's eyes snapped open. "I didn"t get you anything."

"Don't worry about it buddy. Come eat huevos rancheros with me so I'm not stuffing my face alone."

"But."

Foggy rubbed Matt’s head more firmly, probably in response to the way he was tensing up. When Foggy raked nails softly over his scalp, the sound that came out of his mouth was naked and aroused. He coughed to cover the sound of his shifting.

"Ooh, nice sound." Foggy said sleepily, but Matt could hear the smile. "Gonna do that some more." Foggy did stuff like that all the time and it drove Matt to distraction. When Matt blushed, Foggy told him how pretty it was. When Matt was interested in someone, Foggy hovered like a stage mom and "helped". One time he even reached over and popped Matt's top button for him. When Matt got inconveniently hard during a movie's love scene, Foggy teased him about "Young Murdock" and offered to cue up increasingly raunchy titles for its amusement. Matt may have grown up in an orphanage, but he was pretty sure naming each other's boners was not a normal guy thing.

Even though it was a little bit weird that Foggy _didn't_ think it was weird to make him talk about it, Foggy always knowing when he was feeling flirtatious or attracted or—god help him—horny made Matt a little less guilty about knowing exactly what Foggy's body was doing at any given time.

Foggy scratched behind Matt's ear and Matt lost control of his tongue and the situation. He moaned and his hips rocked against Foggy's shin.

"Young Murdock is too butch for whiskey dick," Foggy proclaimed, snickering. There he went again, Matt mused, the great boundaries-ignorer. The thought punctured his embarrassment and he chuckled.

"Yeah, it's missed you," Matt pushed at the bedsheets with his toes and caterpillared up Foggy's body, making sure to drag his bulge along Foggy's leg. Foggy laughed like Matt had tickled him, which was great and also awful. They couldn't do this forever, could they? The drunken touching and the constant oversharing and the way that Matt's heart flipped every time Foggy's did. Matt knew the smell of Foggy's breath but he'd never kissed him. He knew the sound of Foggy's orgasm but he'd never given him one. Eventually they had to hit something that was a bridge too intimate and they'd turn back. Or they'd cross.

Matt was beginning to think that it could actually happen, if he could just sack up and _do_ something about it. Maybe when they went out for dinner, if Matt sat close to Foggy, if he leaned in to speak as truthfully and as charmingly as he knew how, and if by some miracle Foggy didn't laugh in his face, then maybe, just maybe, he could convince Foggy to give him a chance. But that was a sober daytime thought, and if this was Matt’s last chance to be tipsy and snuggled up against the smile that came from the very middle of Foggy's body, he wasn't going to waste it.

With a wicked grin, Matt shoved his icy hands up Foggy's sweater, which made him squeal. "Cold, Matt, cold!" Matt thrust his hands in even further, hoping to tuck his fingers in Foggy's cosy armpits. He was laughing hard against Foggy's stomach, his glasses askew.

"Out out out!" Foggy batted at Matt's arms until he withdrew them. For a long moment they just lay there—Foggy on his back, Matt's chin on Foggy's hipbone—huffing out the last dregs of their giggles.

Foggy threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of Matt's neck. The silence between them grew thick and breathless. "God, I want you," Foggy said warmly.

Matt blinked. "What?"

"Sorry, it's just—I look at you and I want you so badly sometimes." Matt was incredulous. With four words, Foggy just skipped over everything, had taken Matt's hand and _leapt_ that bridge in a single bound. Was Foggy secretly a superhero? Did he not feel _fear_? "Guess it's drunk-truth o'clock. Don't worry about it though. You won't hear anything about it tomorrow if you don't want to."

"How are you so brave?" Matt asked. Finding this out was much more important than acting on what Foggy had just confessed, or even telling Foggy he felt the same way.

Foggy touched Matt's chin. "Because it's not scary."

"What if I'd said no?"

"It wasn't a question, Matt, it was a statement. You could say no thanks, but it wouldn't have changed anything for me. And I figured—you were rubbing your dick on me a second ago."

Matt walked himself up the bed with his hands."You want me," he breathed.

He put his palm down on the fly of Foggy's jeans, curling his fingers around the bulge he found there. It was suddenly hard and throbbing under Matt’s hand, even through the fabric.

"So much," Foggy groaned.

Matt exhaled over Foggy's open mouth and squeezed between Foggy's legs. The quiet, overwhelmed way he said Matt's name was Matt's new favourite thing—first equal with Foggy's fearlessness.

Matt dipped his head down.

Foggy kissed like he laughed—with his whole body and without thought for the neighbours. His fingers sank into Matt's hair and his legs came up around Matt's hips and Matt would have happily died right there, wrapped up in his soft, beery smell and strong limbs. He ground down and they gasped into each other's mouths.

Oh, thought Matt. More of that. He wriggled down Foggy's body, loving the filthy press of Foggy's hard-on against his belly, his chest, his collarbone.

"Wait, where are you going?" Matt laughed at Foggy's outrage.

"I figured out what I can give you for your birthday," said Matt, yanking Foggy's belt open. He heard Foggy's head drop back onto the pillow.

"Oh," he said quietly, "yes, I like those."

Matt hummed his approval, and stuck his tongue into the gap that Foggy's lifting cock made in his boxers.

"Wait wait, Matt," Foggy panted. "Can I see your eyes when you do this, Matt? Is that allowed?"

There was no end to Foggy's bravery when it came to admitting his desires, Matt thought. "Take them off for me." Foggy gently pulled off Matt's glasses, folded them up, and put them on the nightstand. Then he rubbed gentle fingers over Matt's cheekbone. He groaned when Matt captured his thumb in his mouth and scraped his teeth over it.

"You're beautiful." Matt wasn't sure what to say about that, so he pushed his face into Foggy's spread fly. Foggy's cock nudged his cheek and he closed his mouth over it hungrily. Foggy leaked heavily over Matt's tongue, salt and bitter hops from all the beer he'd drank. It wasn't nice but _oh_ , the things Foggy was saying made up for it.

"Matty, feels so good," he moaned, "oh god, _sweetheart._ " Matt’s heart swelled at the adoration in Foggy's voice, and he smoothed his hands over Foggy's delicious belly as he moved his head.

Foggy's hands roamed all over Matt's arms, his shoulders, the back of his neck. When his finger caught a tangle in Matt's hair and tugged, Matt inhaled sharply and doubled his pace.

"Jesus Christ!" The stroking in his hair became a gentle grip and Matt forced one hand down the front of his jeans. "Matt, Matty, gotta slow—ugh—gotta slow down or I'm gonna come."

Matt pulled off with a pop. "But." He was lying on his stomach but Foggy should have been able to see his arm moving and know what sucking Foggy was doing to him. He bit his lip. Say what you want, Murdock. Be brave for once. "But I want that. Wanna hear you. Wanna _feel_ you."

"Matt..." Foggy said wonderingly.

"And I liked it when you called me..."

He could hear Foggy's smile. "Really?" Matt nodded—well, he rocked his face against Foggy's hip.

"Come up here for a second." Matt leaned up and Foggy leaned down and awkwardly their mouths met. "Sweetheart," Foggy whispered. "My beautiful boy."

"Foggy, _Jesus_." Matt dove back down and closed his mouth around Foggy's erection.

Foggy shuddered and bucked, and his mouth never stopped moving either. He called Matt sweetheart and honey and darling, and it made Matt feel like he’d eaten glowing coals.

"Matt, gonna come, baby." Matt took Foggy as deep as he could and swallowed around him, feeling his own orgasm coiling in his spine. "Oh fuck—Matt—sweetie. Fuck!" Foggy shot, thick and bitter, across his tongue. The heat of it, and the sharp, helpless sounds Foggy made caused something in Matt's chest to roar. He shuddered and squeezed his own spurting cock in time with Foggy's cries.

Pulling off, he tried to keep his face under control but Foggy shoved tissues at him so he probably failed. He spat into the tissue, wiped his sticky hand, and threw the soggy bundle onto the floor. Feeling lightheaded and triumphant and shaky with exertion, he put his head down on Foggy's ribs. Foggy's arms came up around him.

Panting, Foggy rubbed at Matt's head. "Sweetheart. My darling." Matt buried his face, not quite able to take that much affection when the heat of the moment had faded. "What is it?" Matt shrugged, his head still wedged under Foggy's arm. "Hey, get up here."

Foggy hauled Matt up so that they shared a pillow. "Matt, I think getting to call you sweetheart is the best present I could have gotten. But if it ever freaks you out then you'll never hear it again." Foggy _was_ a superhero. Matt could never have sculpted the tornado of his feelings into words that made the other person feel loved, and free to refuse, and _not broken_ all at the same time. He touched his forehead to Foggy's. They were both sweating, but it was beginning to cool.

"I'll get used to it." Foggy opened his mouth, probably to tell Matt that pet names were not something he needed to endure. "I _want_ to get used to it. I want you to call me...those things. But I'm not used to it yet." Foggy kissed him and pulled him into a cuddle.

"Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"When's your birthday?"

"Next month." His voice was going hoarse, and it made Foggy shiver.

"Awesome. I already know what I'm getting you."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Can't Keep My Hands to Myself, by Selena Gomez.
> 
>  
> 
> [I'm on tumblr!](http://werelibrarian.tumblr.com)


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